


Toxic Angel

by LunchLich



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Anxiety, Awkward Romance, Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Metal Music, Past Child Abuse, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Spin the Bottle, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunchLich/pseuds/LunchLich
Summary: The flashing lights settled into a harsh red and the music came to an abrupt stop. Sal hadn't realized how much tension he was holding in his body watching him until it was over and the vocalist had walked off of the stage shaking his hand, a few flecks of red falling off his fingers.As if that wasn't the most metal shit he'd ever seen in his life.
Relationships: Sal Fisher/Travis Phelps, Todd Morrison/Neil
Comments: 22
Kudos: 59





	1. Aspen

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna be honest. I have no fucking clue where this is going. But I finished reading we don't have to dance, which I fucking ADORED, and I wanted to write my own band AU anyway. 
> 
> More tags to be added because I only have the vaguest idea of the plot.

"I've never even heard of the fuckin' band." Larry puffed out a plume of smoke and flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette. The breeze blew at the hair that hadn't made it into the lazy bun he'd put in at the end of the show. "You want one?" He asked, gesturing with the cigarette in his hand. 

"No, but I'll take the rest of yours." Sal tipped his prosthetic up to suck in a breath when the nearly-spent cigarette was passed to him. He let the smoke flow out of the cavity where his nose should be and pressed the plastic mask flush to his face. "I've never heard the music, but I've heard their name before."

"Huh." The brunette took a step back to look at the sign in front of the club. "In Seeking Providence." He read. It was spelled out in unevenly spaced, lopsided letters on the board. "We should be the headliners. Sucks ass being the opener for a show this small."

"We did good, though." He dropped the butt of the cigarette and crushed it against the pavement with the heel of his boot. 

Larry nodded. "I'm gonna hit the men's room while Todd and Ash finish packing the van and meet you back out here."

"Got it. I'm going to pop back in to see In Seeking Providence. They should be almost done, I just wanna see what they're about." Sal pushed himself away from the brick wall and opened the door. The music hit him as soon as he did, heavy bass and a voice that sounded too smooth to be screaming the lyrics like that. It was clean, with less of the grit than Sal's voice had but so much power and emotion behind it. It was raw and real.

Larry was already slipping by the people standing against the wall to get to the bathroom without giving the stage as much as a glance. Sal headed into the crowd. There weren't all that many people here, really. His best guess would be under three hundred, but the room was cramped and it made the turn out feel more impressive than it was. He nudged his way to the front, right up to the stage he'd performed on earlier that night.

Now there was a band of five engulfed in flashing lights, a man with spiked blonde hair standing in the center gripping the mic with an iron hold. His knuckles were turning white around the microphone stand, singing with eyes squeezed tightly shut and his brow furrowed. Something about it gave Sal goosebumps despite the lyrics being difficult to make out through the awkward audio set up of the club. He could still make out the emotion in it, the passion. It was angry. it came from something deep. 

He pulled the mic away from his face and off of its stand before another band member stepped forward. A girl with her hair dyed silver, roots a dark silver, on the guitar. The singer stayed near the front of the stage though, and halfway through what he thought was only going to be a guitar solo, the singer screamed. The mic wasn't anywhere near his face but it caught Sal off guard nonetheless. He slammed his clenched fist into the solid floor of the stage, pounding it against the ground as the crowd went absolutely batshit insane over how crazy that was.

When the singer stood up again he threw his bloody hand up into the air, red dripping down his arm from his knuckles. Fucking hell.

The flashing lights settled into a harsh red and the music came to an abrupt stop. Sal hadn't realized how much tension he was holding in his body watching him until it was over and the vocalist had walked off of the stage shaking his hand, a few flecks of red falling off his fingers.

As if that wasn't the most metal shit he'd ever seen in his life.

He Here felt a light hand on his shoulder and whipped his head around to see who it belonged to. Ash stood behind him, yelling to talk over the cheering audience.

"Where'd your brother run off to? We're ready to head out!" 

"He went to the bathroom, said he'd meet me outside." 

Ash's hand went down to hold his wrist as they wove through the dispersing crowd together and back out the front doors of the venue. No sign of Larry, but Todd had pulled up in the RV that was serving as their tour bus. They used the term 'tour bus' loosely, as it wasn't a bus, nor were they really touring. It was more a road trip with a few shows here and there wherever venues would let them play. Some scheduled ahead of time, sometimes just playing smaller shows for open mics. 

Sal popped open the side door and listened to it creak. The old thing had belonged to Todd's parents while they were still dating back in the early '70s. It ended up sitting in a lot until the band decided to try to make this a career and they were given permission to take it. They'd all tried to fix it up the best they could. 

Todd and Larry took care of the mechanical side of things while Ash and Sal scraped off any chipping paint and rust. 

Ash and Larry took it one step further once they'd gotten it back up and running and painted it black instead of the grimy off white it'd been when they started. Over the black, they spray-painted their band's logo.

'Strange Neighbors', It said in spiky white letters with a green outline.

It was still a fixer-upper, but it was theirs.

"Hey," The redhead waved from the front seat. 

"Hey. Where are we stopping for the night?" 

"Abandoned parking lot, then we'll head out as soon as I wake up." 

Sal got himself situated on one of the pull out benches in the middle of the mobile home, upholstered with a fuzzy, mustard-colored fabric that had more mystery stains than he could count. "So, five-star lodging." He could feel Todd rolling his eyes, even if he was facing away from him.

The door squeaked open once more and Larry stepped in to join Sal on the bench. He felt like a human fucking furnace at his side, warmer than usual. 

"Took you long enough." Ash latched up the door as she spoke and made sure the windows were shut for their drive.

"What? I had to take a shit." He laughed.

But Sal could see how jittery he was, how he picked at the skin on his fingers.


	2. Demo

'Touring' took it's toll faster than any of them were expecting it to. They weren't making more money than they were spending, and they were running out of places that wanted them to play. They had a few fans if the shitty homemade merch they'd sold had anything to say about it. But it wasn't enough to keep them going. 

They did the drive of shame back to Nockfell.

Their parents had warned them about this, too, but they were eighteen and ambitious, so who were they to tell them what to do? Lisa and the Morrisons had been more encouraging than Henry or Ash's parents, who - as much as they wanted to see their children succeed - were realists. 

"So... What now?" Sal asked to break the silence once the decision had been made. They were parked in front of a gas station, fueling up for the stretch of road back home.

"They told me I could return to my position at the RadioShack when I came back." 

"Dream bigger, dude." Larry bounced his leg as he leaned forward in his seat. "The second we get back I'm mailing demos to every record label and producer I can get the address for. We can make this work. We just gotta get ourselves out there." 

"Playing around the country was getting ourselves out there, and now we're broke... I'm sorry, but advertising takes money. So does merch, touring, recording..." Ash crossed her arms. Her stance never faltered in confidence even when her voice clearly showed otherwise. None of them wanted to give up on this dream so early, so young. None of them were even twenty yet. 

Sal bit at the remaining part of his bottom lip from behind his prosthetic. This was a risk. This was a big fucking risk, but this meant everything to him. The band and his friends. "I have a pretty good chunk of money in college savings."

"...Sal..."

"What else am I gonna do with it? I don't wanna use four years of my life back in school to end up in a boring career. Music is the only path I see myself having fun in."

"Henry'd fuckin' kill you, man."

Sal shook his head. "He wants me to be happy. Wants us to be happy." It was true. The only reason Henry had tried to talk them out of it was out of fear that their expectations for this were too high and that they'd end up with their lifelong dreams shattered to pieces. His dad had good intentions, even when they fought about it.

It went quiet for a long ten seconds.

"What happens if no one signs us or it just... Doesn't work?" 

"We figure it out when we get there."

The drive home felt like an eternity, even if it was only eight and a half hours. They'd done longer drives in the past six months. They all took turns at the wheel, except for Sal. The glass eye left him out of that rotation.

They were welcomed home with open arms and attempts not to talk about their failure. Everyone was nice about it. It made Sal's gut twist, being the elephant in the room. At least talk about the disappointment instead of pretending like it isn't there.

Everything went back to normal. The night they arrived Ash spent the night at the Johnson-Fisher basement apartment and told stories about their tour over dinner. The abridged versions of stories, of course, skipping over the times they'd put themselves in any dangerous or illegal situations. A lot of them involved alcohol.

Sal woke up to Larry packaging up CDs into envelopes on the other side of the room. The shared bedroom felt a lot less cramped after living in an RV with two other people for a few months. "Shit, you weren't kidding..."

"Fuck no. I said I was gonna start sending them out as soon as we got back. Gonna drop them off at the post office after I take Ash home." Larry nodded to Sal's bed where Ashley was still dead asleep. The blue-haired boy sat up from his makeshift sleeping bag.

"What time is it?"

"Nine."

"Fuck. You really are determined." Sal shot him a shit-eating grin and chuckled when his stepbrother flipped him off in return.

\----

They didn't get anything back for a good while. Sal didn't know how many demos had been sent out, but he'd seen Larry carry out small stacks of padded envelopes on a few separate occasions now. 

The band kept up the practices. They'd meet in the treehouse to get high and write new songs or they'd all head over to Ash's place a few blocks away to jam in her garage. 

Todd got quieter. Ash kept herself busier. Larry got twitchier. Sal was getting antsier. 

He wanted a response, even if it was a no. He wanted confirmation that their demos didn't get lost in the mail and that someone was listening to them. 

He wanted their music to be heard.

Sal went up to check the mailbox for once - lately, Larry had been waiting for the mail like it was what he was living for. He met the mailman at the door every day without fail. 

Bills, Bills, Letter. Addressed to 'Larry Johnson of Strange Neighbors'. 

Holy fucking shit. What else could be addressed like that, right? It had to be something good. 

Sal turned on his heel to rush to the elevator, tapping his foot on the old carpet the whole way down to the basement. He bumped into Larry the moment the doors opened. 

He looked down at the mail in the shorter man's hands, then back at his masked face. "Anything? I was on my way to check." 

Sal handed over the envelope addressed to him and Larry's eyes lit up like fucking spotlights. It was nice to see with how he'd twitchy he'd been lately. He was getting antsy too, and he could tell the radio silence about the band's fate left him feeling discouraged.

He tore into the envelope with reckless abandon, grin on his face like a child opening a present on Christmas morning. Sal watched intently and tried to peek over the paper to see the words Larry's eyes were scanning. "Holy fuck! Did I even send anything into them? I don't remember doing that. Fuck. Holy fuck!"

"What?"

Larry flipped the paper over so he could read it. Sal skipped over half the words to get to the point, only to have to read it twice over to make sure he was reading it right. "A music festival?"

"Yes! In fucking Philly!"

"Are you sure this is real? I mean- it's not a prank or a scam?"

"No, dude. I've heard of this thing before. It's for rock and metal and punk bands on the east coast. How the hell did they- why us?"

"Maybe someone in charge of it heard about us while we were doing shows? Or one of the producers you sent demo tapes to is involved or passed it along?"

Larry put his hands on Sal's slender shoulders, leaning down to be at a way-too-intense eye level with the crazed look the taller man had. "Dude. Do you know what this means? If we play this show? We could totally be scouted." 

"Oh, shit."

"Shit!" Larry parrotted. He wrapped his arms around Sal and lifted him up, spinning around with pure and simple joy. Excitement. "We gotta tell Todd and Ash! And- and send a letter back saying we'll do it, right?" 

"Yeah- and I'll talk to my dad about using some of my savings for it."

The talk with Henry went about as well as he could except. Larry'd asked if he wanted him there for back up, to which Sal declined. 

"I want to take some money out of my college funds for the festival," He blurted out while they were cleaning dishes one night.

"You know it's not for playing around with. It's for college."

"I know, but... I don't want to go to college. It's never appealed to me."

"Then you can use it to buy a house, or rent your own apartment. Buy stocks." Henry kept staring down at the sudsy dishes rather than make eye contact with Sal.

Sal wanted to tell him how much he didn't want any of that, how he couldn't see himself settling down anytime soon. But he'd rather not start an argument. "I'm not saying I'm gonna blow all of it. I just wanna take some out to be able to pay for food, gas, materials to paint shirts, shit like that." 

"...Alright. Just... Be careful, bud."

They had four months until the festival, and it was chaotic. Constant practice, constant planning. What songs would they play? What would they wear? What were are they gonna make for mercy?

They ended up with twenty-some black t-shirts with their sloppily painted logo on the front to sell and a solid set of four songs to play for their slot.

Two months before, they got a few posters in the mail to promote the festival. They hung a few around town, one on the bulletin board in the apartments, and one in the treehouse for motivation. It listed all of the bands that were playing. Seeing their name on that poster filled them all with an overwhelming sense of pride and disbelief.

Most of the other bands weren't big names, either. Sal scanned the list but only recognized a small handful of them - including In Seeking Providence. The image of the vocalist standing with blood dripping down his arm, chest heaving, messy blonde hair sticking to his forehead with sweat popped into Sal's head. He could remember it so vividly. 

\----

They woke up at five in the morning to pack their instruments up into their shitty RV and get on the road, armed with coffee and bad gas station sandwiches. It was a few hours to Philly and the conversation was far more sparse than it would be any other time.

It was the biggest show they'd ever played by far, too. There was a collective pit of anxiety in their cores. 

They were shown to the parking for the performers and settled among everything from tour buses to other mobile homes like their own. The festival went through Saturday and Sunday and they pulled up to their slot on Friday. This was their home for the weekend, around all these rockstars in the making.

Sal should be more excited, but all he could feel right now was crippling anxiety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We almost 3k in and this is still pretty much exposition????? The next chapter is when things'll really start - it'll cover the entirety of the festival so it'll take me a little longer to write.


	3. Philly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed the name of the fic bc i like this better lol

Friday night was the time for the musicians to party, unsurprisingly. Performers started to gather in the center of the lot to socialize and drink. A CD player was set up with a stack of cases next to it for anyone to pick out music. Larry headed out to join first, then Todd once he'd woken up from a nap. 

"Looks like fun. You coming out?" Ash stuck a tissue between her lips to get rid of the excess black lipstick. "Maybe we'll meet people from around here. It'd be nice to have more people to jam with in-state."

"Yeah, it would be. I'm gonna change before I come out." He moved the curtain to peek out the window. People dancing and headbanging were lit up by sparsely placed street lights. Some sat in front of their buses with a bottle of beer in their hands or in lawn chairs watching the fun from afar. That was tempting.

"See you out there, then." 

He waited for the door to click behind her before he got up to change and to hype himself up for social interaction. 

The tank top he chose to wear hung a little too loose, and his ripped jeans clung to his scrawny legs too tightly. The top displayed his only tattoo, though - 'I love you', written in his mother's handwriting - and the pants we comfortable and easy to move around it.

He put his hair up in a bun and pinned it back with a couple of barrettes. The air on the back of his head where he'd recently shaved in an undercut felt nice, sending a shiver down his spine. He made his best effort to cop a look at himself in the reflection of the window and decided it was good enough.

Sal's few yard-walk to the gathering made his throat feel tight. It was already loud, there were too many people, and the summer heat made the inside of his prosthetic feel sticky. Every step he took made him want to take two more backward, back to the RV. He wanted to have fun, though, and that won over the anxiety.

He did a b-line for the first of his friends he saw. Ash and Larry were standing on the sidelines murmuring to each other. Larry turned to him as soon as he saw him out of his peripheral vision, eyes wide as he laughed. "Travis fucking Phelps is here!"

"...who's that?"

"He moved before Sal came to Nockfell," Ash reminded.

"Fuck. Travis was the school bully in elementary school. Good little Catholic boy, son of the town's preacher. Phelps Ministry? Yeah." Larry snickered, unable to contain himself. "Punched me for coming to school with eyeliner on once when we were twelve. He moved away right before freshman year."

"Are you sure it's him? I can't imagine him in a band." Ash asked.

"Oh, it's him. Don't you recognize that ugly ass scowl?" Larry pointed over to a fold-out table with a few eighteen-packs of beer set on top of it. Sal followed the direction of his finger and recognized the man. The way he gripped the bottle in his hand was just like how he'd gripped the mic stand. 

"He's the lead singer for In Seeking Providence," Sal informed them. He was confident that was him.

"No fuckin' way!" Larry cackled. Ash joined in on the laughter. Sal figured he had to be there for this to be so funny.

"Yeah. I recognize him from when we opened for them. I'm gonna- I think I'm gonna go talk to him." 

They both looked confused as their laughter subsided. Sal didn't give them enough time to ask before he was already walking over to the grumpy-looking blonde. He wanted a beer anyway, and if he wanted to mingle Travis seemed like the perfect person to do it with. He could talk about his music and the show they'd played together, talk about how shitty and small Nockfell was. It felt less scary when he had conversation topics he knew would land.

Sal grabbed a beer and leaned against the table. He gripped the edge of the table to ground himself. "Hey,"

Travis didn't look at him. He kept his gaze on the dance circle happening not too far away from them. "Hey." 

Thank god they had cans and bottles. He'd rather not make a fool of himself by fiddling with a bottle cap throughout the conversation until he got frustrated and had to fetch Ash to open it for him. He popped the tab and listened to the hiss of it. "In Seeking Providence, right?"

The man's gaze finally shifted to him. His eyes were tired and deep-set, brows knit together and a little scowl on his face. Sal wanted to walk away. "Yeah."

"Cool." He nodded. He reached back around to unclip the bottom straps of his mask to be able to take a drink - fuck, he needed to carry straws on him more often. "My band opened for you in..."

"Aspen. Colorado." Travis supplied when Sal took too long to remember where it was. It all blurred together. It'd been nearly eight months since they'd played that show. "I remember. You've got a unique look, it's a good gimmick. It stuck with me."

Sal wasn't about to correct him about 'the gimmick'. "Thanks. Yours too."

"Thanks." 

He nodded, taking another sip of his beer. He looked down at his feet as he tried to think of what to say next, and for once, he was thankful for his mask. Maybe he wouldn't come off as nervous if no one could see his face. "I'm Sal." He finally said.

"Travis." He held his hand out towards him, and Sal switched his beer to his other hand to shake Travis'. The singer's hand was soft against his calloused fingers, but his handshake was firm and confident.

"You're from Nockfell, right?" 

Travis stopped midway from pulling his hand back, and for a few brief moments, Sal was afraid he'd stopped time with the question. His eyes flicked up to see his face, to try and read his expression. He couldn't find anything, but that may be the most identifiable thing he could have seen. The blankness. Travis blinked it away after a split second and gave him the smallest trace of a smile. His jaw still looked tense. "Yeah, yeah. I take it you are too?" 

"Originally from New Jersey. I moved there four years ago, though." 

"Jesus, why?" He snorted.

"My dad and I needed a new start."

"Did you manage to find that in Nockfell?"

Sal thought, not that he had to think about it for long. He met Larry in Nockfell. He met Todd and Ash in Nockfell. His dad started getting sober in Nockfell. He got a step-mom in Nockfell. He thought back to their life in Jersey, where Sal would go to school and be relentlessly picked on by the people he called his friends. Where he'd come home and pick up beer cans, set a glass of water and an Advil on the side table next to where Henry had passed out. Where he'd go into his room and lock the door, sit on his bed and stare at the posters on his ceiling. 

Beer didn't sound as appealing anymore. He set his can down on the table behind them. "It did."

"That's a fuckin miracle." Travis chuckled. Sal wondered how this could be the same guy Larry said punched him for wearing eyeliner. He was wearing it now, and he seemed nice enough. He just had a bad case of resting bitch face. "All Nockfell ever seems to bring to anyone is a lot of pain and bullshit."

"Don't get me wrong, there was a lot of that, too." 

Silence, again. It wasn't uncomfortable, though. They both people watched while Travis finished off his beer and opened a new one. Someone brought out glow sticks and handed them out to anyone dancing. He saw Todd get handed one. He was dancing with some shirtless dude with liberty spikes. Go, Todd. "When are you playing this weekend?" Sal asked.

"Sunday evening. One of the last shows. You?"

"Tomorrow at one." 

"Shit. I might have to come watch. You guys were pretty good in Colorado."

Sal's face felt a little warmer under his plastic face. Compliments were hard to take, especially from good musicians. "Same to you." 

Travis gave a nod and finished off his second beer, dropping the empty can and crushing it with his foot. "See you on stage tomorrow, then. I gotta go make sure my bandmates aren't getting too fucked up."

Sal waved as he watched him walk away. He walked with a cool swagger, one hand in his pocket and his head swaying just slightly to the music. 

He was the first one back to the RV that night. The mask was getting sweaty in the humid summer air and he needed a break from everything. Too many people, too much socialization already. He needed to decompress. An hour or so after he'd come back and gotten settled into his pull out bunk he saw Todd's bright orange head of hair walk past the window, then the door opened. "Have fun?"

"Yeah. You? I saw you talking to an ex-goody two shoes boy scout." 

"Ash and Larry told me about that. Were you surprised? Did you know him when he lived in Nockfell?"

"I knew him, yes. Was I surprised? No, cause I already knew he was in the band already. I actually look into the people we play shows with." Todd took his glasses off and rolled into his bed mat on the floor. "Besides, I don't find it that strange. It isn't uncommon for those raised in extremely Christian environments to go in the opposite direction, eventually."

\---

The next day went far too fast. They barely slept. Ash and Larry come back late that night and woke up early to start getting ready. Larry looked like a damn mess with darker eye bags than usual and he reeked of smoke, weed, and alcohol. His idea of 'getting dolled up' today was redoing his days old eyeliner and brushing his hair, for once. 

Ash helped Todd tame his mop of hair. It was a mohawk but the messy curls overflowed to cover the shaved parts of his hair. Ashley teased the locks to a chaotic fluff and used so much hair spray to keep it up that the mist threw Todd into an asthmatic coughing fit. Ash herself went all out: combat boots with black shorts and fishnets, a large t-shirt turned crop top. 

"Wait- Sal, do you have any saline solution with you?" She turned away from her portable mirror to look at him. 

"Yes...?" Sal was confused but dug through his bag regardless. He whipped out his travel bottle of saline solution he used for his false eye and passed it to Ash. 

She tipped her head back and dropped a couple of drops into each eye, letting false tears fall and make streaks of mascara down her cheeks. She grinned like a madman when she saw her reflection. "Fuckin' rad."

"That is pretty metal." Sal snickered and finished getting himself ready. He always had a hard time with getting dressed up for shows. He always wanted to dress to impress, but it was fucking hard. He wore the same loose tank top he had the night before and picked out a different pair of ripped jeans. He had a lot of them, but this red pair was his favorite. 

He wrapped a flannel around his waist, and he was good to go.

The lot wasn't that far away from the outdoor stage, only a few blocks away. The festival offered a shuttle they were able to pile themselves and their instruments into. Thank fucking god there was a drumset already set up on the stage. Larry got to be the caddy for Todd's keyboard since he was all muscle and didn't have to haul his instrument with them. 

Sal thought he was going to throw up when he saw the stage. 

It was big, bigger than he ever thought he'd play on, and the crowd was worse. There were food trucks and vendors lined up to make three aisles close enough for people to listen to the music while they walked around or sat in one of the big tents to enjoy a meal. There were plenty of people on picnic blankets or sitting in the grass, and far more standing near the stage with drinks in their hands. He knew it was going to be big, but nothing could have prepared him for singing in front of this many people.

He went quiet backstage. It was obvious. Larry came over to rub his back while Todd insisted on helping the stagehands get set up. Another band played before them yet, but he knew the show would come sooner than he'd be ready for it. "They're all going to be looking at me,"

"Yeah, but they'll also be listenin' to your voice. You got your mask, too. We're so fuckin' cool no one's gonna give a shit."

"Can you- can you get me some water?" He sounded like he'd run a marathon with how his breath got caught in his chest and how it wheezed in his throat. 

"Yeah, dude- absolutely." Larry scuttled off to get him a cup of water. Sal tucked himself into a corner so that he could lift the bottom of his mask up. He never had any problem breathing or talking in it. This moment was the exception.

It felt like his lungs were caving in on him. How was he going to sing like this? If he couldn't breathe, how could he sing? how could he scream? How could he dance? He could tell his thoughts were spiraling and making all of this worse, making his windpipes close in, but he couldn't stop it. "Shit- shit, shit...." he whispered to himself, until he felt a hand on his shoulder again and turned to take the glass of water he was being offered.

"Hey- dude. dude, you're alright, it's gonna be okay. Take a deep breath for me, okay?" Larry knelt in front of him so Sal didn't have to crane his neck to make eye contact, so that maybe he'd feel a little bigger.

Sal nodded and sucked in a shaky, strained breath. Then a second, and a third, and a fourth when Larry took a deep breath as well. His lungs were starting to expand, able to take in the full capacity of air again. His throat relaxed and the rush of oxygen to his brain made him feel calmer. His hands still shook as he brought the cup of water to his damaged lips.

"Better?" 

"Yeah. Thank- Thank you." He stammered out. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Larry got to see him in all sorts of states of fucked up and panicked. To be fair, though, Sal saw him like this a lot, too. They both had plenty of nightmares and rollercoasters of anxiety. "I think I'll be okay, just- fuck, that's so many people."

"Oh, believe me, I almost hurled on the shuttle ride here thinking about it. What do we have to lose, though?"

A lot.

The audience clapped when they walked onto the stage. The courtesy clap. They weren't so taken off guard that they couldn't be polite. It was a good sign. They opened with 'Dark Things' that eased in with Ash's vocals. It gave him more time to get used to standing in front of so many people. In all honesty, he tried to just pretend they weren't there. Tried not to look into the crowd. With his prosthetic no one could tell he was looking straight down at the strings of his guitar unless they were right up against the stage. There weren't many people who were, but when he got the balls to peek, he saw Travis right there, standing with his arms resting on the edge of the stage. When he said he might have to come watch, he wasn't expecting him to look so into it. He half expected that he'd only said it in the flow of the conversation and he wasn't planning on coming at all.

They played 'House of The Wretched' next. Something more upbeat and involved, one Sal got to walk around the stage for, and one Larry got to get up and windmill his hair around for in parts where the drums cut out. The cheers got louder the more they got into it. The pit in Sal's stomach started to shrink. 

He'd completely let loose by the third song, and by the fourth, more people had pressed themselves closer to the stage to better see the action. They were all hopping around on stage. Sal's flannel was on the ground, his hair in a tangled mess from swinging it around. Ash's make up had smeared with sweat and her black lipstick smudged up to her cheek after she'd purposely fucked it up during a song. Larry threw his shirt into the crowd at some point. Todd had gotten a bloody nose and was completely unphased as it stained his shirt.

They were fucking amazing.

The crowd screamed when their fourth song came to an end, and a few dissatisfied groans could be heard when Ash announced that that was all for their set. The moment they left the crowd's view off of the stage, they clambered into a big group hug and squealed like children.

\---

They all stayed in the RV that night. Larry had talked a big talk about going out to party, but he was wrapped up in his sleeping bag like a burrito by nine. They'd walked around the festival for an hour and got food before they got too tired and went back to the motorhome. 

"...Thank you. All of you." Sal spoke up. He laid in his bunk, one arm hanging off the side while he stared at the water-stained ceiling. 

"For?" Todd propped himself up on one elbow. 

"Being here for me. Being here for each other, putting so much work into the band."

"Hey, that's what friends are for." Larry's dorky, gap-toothed grin could be heard in his voice.

They went back to the festival the next day once they'd woken up. It was a slow morning after their fast day yesterday. They did some more walking around. More eating amazingly trashy food until they were uncomfortably full. They sat in the grass and listened to music. They got up and danced - Sal and Larry joined in on a headbanging circle with other dudes with long hair. They were with their people, and it was freeing, coming from such a small town. 

"Hey," A man approached them with a sheepish smile. "I really liked y'alls performance yesterday and I'm-" He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a permanent marker. "I'm, uh, trying to collect signatures. Could you guys sign my shirt?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure, of course." You know you've made it when someone asks you to sign their shirt.

"Oh my gosh, thank you so much," The man passed the marker over to Sal first and turned around. The back of his shirt had a few signatures but plenty of room for them to put their names. "You guys have been my favorite band here so far."

"That's an honor, thank you. Mind me asking your name?" Todd asked while Sal put his small signature onto the fabric and passed the marker to Ash, who then passed it to Larry, then on to Todd.

"Oh! Um. Neil."

"Todd. Nice to meet you." He signed his name with a little star above the 'i' in Morrison. The rest of the band collectively rolled their eyes.

They all made sure to get their spots at the front of the stage when In Seeking Providence was about to play. They wanted to see what the old school bully did nowadays, and Sal was excited to see more than the last half of one song. 

"What if he comes out to perform in like, a boy scout uniform or some shit." Larry teased.

It couldn't be further from it, though. It was a big gig, which meant that every band went all out. Travis' was no exception. He strolled out onto the stage in the middle of swirling fake smoke, decked out in platform shoes and stacked rings. An inverted cross hung around his neck. His eyes were red, the contacts pulling it the wonderfully demonic look together. And good god in heaven, it was kinda hot.

Sal glanced over at his bandmates to see how far their jaws had dropped.

The band was even better than Sal remembered. More refined and more... gothy, edgier. They went hard on stage, guitarists and bassist headbanging in time with the music while Travis sang his fucking heart out. His voice was a little rougher than Sal remembered, too. A tiny mosh pit started during their second to last song. Ash and Larry threw themselves in it without hesitation, but Sal was content with keeping his eyes on the stage. He was fixated on how much energy the entire band injected into their music. 

They went a risky route with the last song for their set: They sang a slow song.

Usually, you'd want to keep the energy going. You play the slow song as your first or second, you build it up, not let it down. The song ended up being anything but a letdown. Travis sat on the edge of the stage, his legs dangling over the side as he stared out past the crowd. The song was called 'from the sky', and he was pouring his whole heart into it. The hand holding the mic was shaking, his other hand gripping at his knee. 

The lyrics spoke about faith or lack thereof. It told the story of a man who'd been let down by god time and time again. Sal felt it resonating in his chest. 

He made it a point to talk to him early the next morning while everyone was getting ready to head out. Travis stood at the back of In Seeking Providence's real, proper tour bus making sure they had everything. He looked exhausted and perhaps a little hungover. Sal wouldn't doubt it. "You guys fucking killed it last night."

"Thanks. We had some technical difficulties before we went on but I think we did alright." 

"Technical difficulties?"

"Had to change one of the songs in our set last minute. It was one we always do fun shit with lights with, but they couldn't get 'em to work right. It's just not the same without lights that'll give you a stroke."

"Damn," Was all Sal could think of to say. "I wouldn't have known you had to make a last-minute adjustment."

Travis nodded. He didn't seem to know what to say either. The atmosphere turned uncomfortable quickly. "I've got a pounding headache and we have a hell of a drive to make. I wouldn't be surprised if you got more shows booked after the performance you gave, so I bet It won't be long until we cross paths again, yeah?"

Sal could tell he was trying to say he liked their show. He smiled and hoped he was conveying the expression well enough with his eyes. He'd been told he was impossible to read. "Hopefully."

"See ya." Travis waved and sauntered to the front of the bus. The door shut on the beautiful bus, all painted up like a gothic renaissance painting depicting angels and demons and their band name on top of it all. The engine started with a whir and he listened to the bus drive away as he walked back to his own run down 'tour bus'. 

"Sardine Fishman, sign this shit." Larry popped up from where he was crouching at the back of the RV. He pointed to the previously blank, white back hatch where three signatures were now scribbled on. 

"Really? Our own van?" 

"To commemorate our first really big show," He tossed the marker to his stepbrother. "We're stars now, man."

Sal rolled his eyes. The idea was... sweet, though, sentimental. He signed his name in sharp, tilted letters. 

'Sally Face'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: chapter 3 is gonna take me a long time to write  
> me: posts it within 24 hours of chapter 2


	4. Dream

Larry stood up on his unmade bed and disabled the fire alarm on the ceiling. He could do it in two seconds flat now after learning the trick in high school. He flopped down to sit cross legged on the crumpled sheets and lit a cigarette. "What's your, like... Goal for the band?"

He turned the volume down on the stereo and looked over at him. "What do you mean?"

"Where do you want us to be in a year? Two years? I dunno. Just... What's the dream?"

"Realistically? Uh... I think it'd be nice to have an album out, maybe tour again. Even if it's on a smaller scale." Sal said.

"That it?" 

"Yeah? What's 'The Dream' for you?"

"I wanna tour again, but bigger than last time. More venues, bigger venues. A real bus. I wanna be able to have proper merch. Definitely have an album out, maybe have it chart." Larry beamed, his smile lopsided and hopeful as he blew smoke through the gap in his teeth.

"That sounds nice and all, but you might wanna pull your head out of the clouds. Just a little." 

Sal wanted all of that too. Logically, though, he knew it wasn't realistic. The statistics weren't in anyone's favor. They were just a bunch of freaks who could put on an alright show.

"You sound like your dad." The brunette rolled his eyes. Ash fell from his cigarette onto his bed. He tried to brush it off, only succeeding in rubbing it in. "Just watch. You're gonna owe me money when we're big shots playing with, like... Metallica or Megadeth. Or Sanity's Fall." 

"I don't wanna hear about your wet dreams." 

Larry cackled. His laugh was loud and infectious and littered with snorts. "I'm just saying. Nothing is impossible."

"I guess so." He shrugged. Sal fidgeted with the hair elastics around his wrist before pulling his hair up into pigtails between the straps of his prosthetic. 

He stubbed out the butt of the cig into the ashtray on the floor next to his bed. He'd made it in art class in junior year. He got away with it by telling the teacher it was an 'artistic milk dish' for his cat. "...How've you been, man?" He asked out of the blue. 

He stared at him for a second, wondering where that'd come from and what he'd done to prompt the question. They never asked each other that as small talk, they saw each other every day. "...fine? Why?"

"Just askin'. You've been more fidgety lately."

"I could say the same to you." 

Larry didn't have much to say to that. He only gave a non-committal, one-shouldered shrug in response. He stood back up on his bed to turn the fire alarm back on. 

"I told Todd i'd play video games with him today, so I think I'm gonna head up." 

"Mom wants my help with fixing up some pipes, otherwise i'd invite myself. See ya later." Larry gave a lazy wave as Sal walked out the door and headed to the elevator outside of their apartment.

Larry was right to think something was up. His nightmares had been getting more vivid and way more frequent for no apparent reason. Maybe something had set it off, or maybe the stress of preparing for and performing at the festival was catching up to him. Whatever it was, it was affecting him more than he'd like to admit. He should be used to night terrors by now.

Sal knocked on the door to the Morrison's apartment. It only took a moment for him to hear a soft, "Come in!" from Todd's mom. When he opened the door she was sitting on the couch strumming on an acoustic guitar playing no song in particular. It was funny. Todd got his parent's love for music, but went in the complete opposite direction. "Toddy told me you'd be coming over and that he'd wait in his room for you."

"Thanks, Mrs Morrison." He waved before heading to the way to his friend's room. He didn't bother knocking anymore. "Hey. What're you playing?" 

Sal tip toed over cords to plop himself down next to Todd in the empty bean bag chair. 

"Mortal Kombat two," Todd pushed the buttons quickly and purposefully, not like how he'd play fighting games where he'd smash buttons until something good happened. Todd was ridiculously strategic.

"Shit, didn't that just come out?"

"The north american release, yes." Todd finished his game and plugged in a second controller, handing it over to Sal. "Same controls as the first game, except you can do crouching punches now." 

It was nice to zone out and immerse himself into the game. The button-smashing was meditative. Todd was kicking his ass, but when wasn't that the case when they played together? "Have you heard anything for the band?" The redhead asked without taking his eyes off of the screen.

"What, like contracts and stuff? No, no one has gotten back to us yet. Ash found a hook up and is trying to get us a show in New York."

"That's something. We should do a small show here in Nockfell." 

"The only people that'd show would be our parents." Sal couldn't help but chuckle, picturing it. Them on stage, an audience of six people giving a slow, awkward applause after they sang a song about murder and ghostly possessions. 

"...Yeah, fair enough. That might not go over so well. Maybe someday."

"Maybe someday." Sal agreed. "...Larry asked me something earlier. You're the most grounded in reality of any of us, and I wanna ask what you think."

"I'm intrigued." 

"Where do you want this band to go? What do you... Want out of this in the next few years?" Todd beat him in their current round and Sal set the controller down, turning to look at the man in the bean bag chair next to him and give him his full attention.

Todd leaned back to stare at his popcorned ceiling and bit his lip. After a few seconds of deep thought, he spoke up. "I want us all to be happy doing what we love, as sappy as that sounds. I want others to appreciate our music but moreso, I want us to appreciate our own music. I want us to be able to work on our craft together and have fun while we're young and not tied down by anything."

It was sappy, but it was a sentiment that Sal shared. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want fame - or rather, recognition, but more than anything he wanted to keep making music. "...Yeah, me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some more character building, basically LMAO


	5. NYC

Sal grazed his fingers over the row of CD, reading over the titles as his fingers passed them. This had become something of a ritual over the years - going to Nockfell's run-down record shop and into their metal section once a month or so to see if there was anything new. There rarely was. It gave him something to do, though, and gave him an excuse to be in an environment he liked. The store always played rock music over the speakers and had posters strung up along the walls with artists from the seventies and eighties. He always tried to picture what their band would look like as a poster up on these walls, or how a CD would look amongst the big names on the shelf.

And he gave Larry shit for dreaming too big. To give himself some credit, he never expected it to happen. Just imagined.

He saw a lot of familiar names while skimming the shelves, partially because his and Larry's co-owned CD and vinyl collection from years of coming to this shop had gotten out of hand. His hand stopped on a familiar name unlike the others, one he wasn't expecting to see here in their small town, of all places. He slid it out from the shelf and flipped it over to get a better look. 'In Seeking Providence'. He had no idea they had an album out, or that they were signed on a record label. He wasn't all that shocked, though, with how often they seemed to get booked. 

"Hey, CJ," Sal said as he set the plastic case onto the checkout counter. "Just this one today."

"Ey, hometown band! Good choice. You heard their music before or did it just catch your eye?"

"We've, um, played with them before." He was far too shy when it came to talking about the band for someone who wanted this as a career. He didn't want to sound like he was bragging. "We opened for them awhile back and we played at the same festival, the one in Philly."

"Lucky bastard! Shit, I think I knew that. Sometimes I forget you and the other Addison Apartment kids are in a band. Sorry. Got a bad brain."

"Me too, man." Sal huffed out an awkward laugh as he dug into his pockets for his cash, sliding a twenty across the counter.

The walk home was pleasant. It was getting warmer as spring came into full swing. it was warm enough he had to stop to shed his jacket, carrying it in the crook of his arm instead. It made him anxious to think about the fact summer was around the corner. They still had no plans for the year, not as a band or as friends. Todd was working again, Ash was back to babysitting and trying to sell her paintings. Sal was fine with laying low for a while, but having nothing to look forward to was starting to get to him. 

The monotony of the days was knocking him off his game. Every day felt like it was a repeat of the last, every week a carbon copy of the one that came before. It was making life feel not quite real. As if time was simultaneously stopped and moving far too fast at the same time. It was driving him fucking crazy. 

He could see Larry in the front window of the apartments pacing in the lobby as he approached up the long sidewalk. He immediately felt nauseated as a bad feeling grew in his stomach. He'd seen people pace like that before, seen his dad pace like that, and it always meant something had happened. His dad always fucking paced like that when there was bad news, and there had been a lot of bad news in his life. He opened the front door with a shaky hand and jumped what felt like a foot in the air when Larry squawked at the sight of him.

"Shit- shit, sorry- where've you been? I thought I was gonna lose my fucking mind keeping this to myself- And no one else is answering their phones!" 

Sal felt dizzy. Not all there. He tightened his grip around the handle of the plastic bag a little more. "I-I was at the record store- what happened?" 

"Someone put in a good word for us."

The way Larry smiled allowed the knot in Sal's stomach to ease up. His brain was lagging behind his step-brother's words as he tried to make sense of what he was saying over the pulse of his out heart in his ears. "For the band?"

"Yeah, for the band! An agent got ahold of our demo, we're goin' to New York, baby!" Larry threw his hands up into the air triumphantly, but it wasn't clicking for Sal. 

"I-...I need to sit down." Instead of heading down to the basement, he plopped himself down onto the floor, leaning against the wall next to the door. Larry followed suit right after.

"Sorry, I- I know that's a lot."

He shook his head and closed his eyes beneath the prosthetic. It wasn't his fault. Something about seeing Larry pacing in the window had set him off, and the news right after that- he couldn't remember what he'd just been told. His brain was looping just a few seconds over and over again.

"Is touch okay?" When he got a nod of confirmation, Larry took the other's hand in his and gave it firm, rhythmic squeezes to ground him. They both sat quietly and focused on only the pressure and following the beat of the motion for a few minutes.

Sal's heartbeat slowed to its normal pace and he got his breathing under control. He hadn't noticed how tight his lungs felt until he relaxed again. "...Thank you..." 

"No problem, little dude." Larry let go of his hand and made his best attempt to discreetly wipe his hand off on his pants. Clammy. 

"Can you, um- can you tell me again what happened." 

"Yeah! I didn't say it very well anyway. I got excited," He snickered. "I got a call while you were gone, someone got our demo to an agent and he got ahold of me. We talked for a bit and he wants us to come to New York to record for him." 

"Wait, are you fucking serious?" 

"Yes!"

"Oh my god!" Sal crashed into Larry's side in a piss-poor attempt at a hug and both of them rolled to their sides onto the floor. They erupted in laughter, so many emotions coursing through them. Excitement, disbelief, joy. They laid there holding each other's arms and giggling for a good ten minutes before the front door opened again and they looked up to see Todd in his red polo work shirt, one eyebrow quirked as he looked down at the pair.

"Hello...?"

"We got signed!"

\--- 

They spent the rest of the night in Todd's room, celebrating with a video game marathon until Ash could come over that evening for dinner. They ordered Chinese take-out as a gift for themselves and ate like cheap, cheap kings. They sat in a circle with their feast spread out between all of them as A Nightmare On Elm Street played on Todd's TV as background noise for them.

"I told you we'd make it," Larry spoke through a mouthful of Crab Rangoon. 

"We haven't made it yet."

\---

Everything moved faster with something to look forward to. Sal didn't feel like he was suspended in the world as he waited for plans to be set in stone. Now it was moving too fast as they started packing the RV a week after they'd gotten the call from the agent. They'd had another phone call with him where all the band members could speak. They'd stood around the phone in the basement, huddled together so they could easily pass the phone around without stretching the cord. They mostly listened as Larry talked. He tended to be the voice of the band. He was charismatic and had The Look about him that everyone associated with metal bands. He and Ash also had the least anxiety when it came to social interactions.

Needless to say, no one's parents were thrilled about this risky move - being called by some random agent then driving up to new york for an unspecified amount of time. They weren't sure how long recording would take or what the process afterward would be like. It was scary no matter how much they supported their children's dreams. They were adults and could handle themselves, though, and there wasn't much time between them finding out and leaving for arguments to start. Lisa sent them off with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in small plastic baggies like they were elementary school kids again. The snack for the five and a half-hour drive was appreciated, though.

The three who could legally drive took turns at the wheel throughout the trip. They all contributed to the small bin of CDs up at the front of the makeshift tour bus, and maybe the box was starting to overflow. They never cleaned it out, just added more to it. The cases at the bottom were from their first trip in this RV and were getting dusty. Ash had dug through it to pick out new music after getting through the entirety of a Sanity's Fall album and laughed when she pulled out the In Seeking Providence CD Sal had slipped in. "Alright, we passed April Fool's a while ago, who did it?"

Larry looked over from his place in the driver's seat and snorted. "My bet's on Sal, and I guess that it wasn't a prank."

"It's for inspiration, you can't deny how good they are. And they've found their success. That could be us."

"Okay, groupie,"

Sal rolled his eyes and threw his head back dramatically against the back of his seat. 

\---

The trip went by in a blink of an eye. They'd made the drive to New York City before. When you live in a small town, long road trips are about the only thing for you to do. They stopped for McDonald's before parking the motorhome in an empty lot for the night. They were way too anxious to sleep. 

"Do you think we'll be able to record tomorrow? Or will it just be a meeting? I don't want to haul our instruments in if we're just gonna talk," Ashley rambled.

"We're not just going to walk in and immediately start recording. There's going to be paperwork and small talk and all sorts of other nonsense." Todd learned from their festival show anxiety and passed out melatonin pills that managed to knock them all out fast enough.

They all went to the recording studio the next day on empty stomachs because no one was confident they'd be able to keep anything down. A small bell rung above their heads as they walked through the door, and a man sitting at a desk in the front popped his head up from whatever he was doing. "Ah! Strange Neighbors, correct? Ash, Sal, Larry, and... Todd?"

"Yes. sir."

"Nice to meet you all finally! I've heard a lot of good things about you all. Dennis Enon, friends call me Dennis, or Enon, go for whichever one you like best." The man laughed as he came out from behind his desk. He didn't at all like someone in the music industry, let alone the alternative side of the industry. With tweed pants, a bowtie, and a combover, he looked more like an English professor than someone who worked for a record label. "Thank you all for making the trip up here. Between your look and your sound, I'm surprised no one has picked you up yet." 

Talking about 'their look' was referencing Sal's mask. He tried not to dwell on it. "Thank you- no one's even tried to get us before. We're very grateful." He spoke truthfully, giving a little nod. 

"Well thank god I got tipped off to you. I have a good feeling about this."

"We do too." Larry fucking beamed.

The front room was reminiscent of the waiting room of a doctor's office. That's what it felt like, with all the paperwork they had to go through. Todd read through the contract carefully and translated all of the scary, binding words and fine print that the others couldn't comprehend. They had a four year minimum with the label, they had to make at least two releases within that timeframe, they'd have to do some sort of tour. The requirements sounded like a dream. They decided they'd do a mini-LP to test the waters. 

"You have the talent, it's the marketability I'm worried about," Enon explained.

The contract was signed and as excited as they all were, signing paperwork with this much importance was scary. It felt like they were signing their souls away. 

"We won't be able to start recording until tomorrow and the paperwork is looked over, but how about I show you where the magic happens? I know seein' where you'll be working can help ease the performance anxiety." The hallway Enon led them down made the place start looking more like a recording studio rather than a doctor's office. Vinyl records hung in frames along the walls of the hall alongside small plaques. The recording room itself looked exactly like you'd expect. A couple of chairs in front of the mixing table, past that a window that showed where microphones and amps were set up for recording.

"This is so cool..." Ash muttered under her breath. She looked around the room like a kid in a candy store, though the same could be said for the rest of the band. This was a reality none of them could have guaranteed, yet here they were, living their literal dreams.

"The equipment is beautiful." 

"Isn't it? I'm excited to see what we can get from it with all of you." Enon stood with his hands on his hips, looking very pleased as he watched the band's awe-filled eyes take in the room.

"So we can start recording tomorrow? How long do you think it's gonna take?"

"We can start tomorrow, yes. The timing depends. Since it's not a full-length album it'll cut down on recording time. I'd give it... a few weeks to a couple of months, depending on how hard we can work and everyone's schedule. We have a couple of artists coming in within that time that we'll have to work around, as well."

'A couple of months' sounded like ages at this point in their lives. Whatever it'd take to get this perfect, though, they'd do.

\---

The first week was excruciating. Sal ended up hunched over a toilet in a Perkins bathroom on the first day. What was supposed to be a celebratory breakfast before going into the studio ended up with him puking his guts out from the anxiety while Todd held his hair back. The recording day itself went relatively smoothly once Sal guzzled a cup of water to unfuck his voice. 

"You know you don't have to wear the mask for the recording, Sal. I understand it's your brand, but it's not going to give us clear audio." Enon said.

The thought of taking his prosthetic off made his stomach turn again and he looked to Larry for guidance. 

"It's part of our whole thing. If his voice wasn't a little muffled then it wouldn't sound like us." 

"Ah! Good point, good point." 

Sal was glad his brother was so good at bullshitting. 

The anxiety lessened as they progressed through the week and finished recording their first song, starting on the next. They'd talked about what songs they'd want to put on their first album after the festival. They had to cut down their choices a bit due to the smaller track count, so they grouped similarly themed songs and called it good. 

The days were long and taxing on all of them. They had days off here and there when other bands and artists would come in to record, but for the most part, they were constantly warming up, working, or trying to get some rest. Their days off were spent napping and resting their voices instead of sightseeing for the most part. Larry got out more than anyone else, he got antsier faster. It seemed to do him good, though, he always performed better the next recording day they had. 

Halfway into the second week, they ran into the next band coming in as they left the recording room. It was weird seeing them in everyday clothes, band shirts and jeans instead of slim-fitting tank tops and faux leather pants, but there was Travis-fucking-Phelps and the rest of his band. The coincidental meetings were getting ridiculous now. 

"Fuckin' hell." Larry audibly groaned and threw his head back in dramatics. The blonde rolled his eyes. Sal could see something there. Since he'd only ever met him one other time, he couldn't quite tell how to read him. He had a wall up. 

"Nice to see you again too. How many years has it been since we talked?" Travis huffed out. Another member of his band shuffled in carrying a guitar on his back and another case in his arms and started carrying it to the back. "It's our turn to head in, but I'm sure we'll bump into each other again if we're both recording." 

"If we're unlucky." Ash quipped.

Travis didn't let on to any reaction. He followed the other members of his band into the hallway, muttering something to Sal as he passed him. 

"I told you you'd get scouted soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting places! And doing things! I'm super excited for the next chapter, Travis is finally starting to come into the picture more which means more interactions. Huzzah!


	6. The Sound Factory

"I can't believe we're signed to the same label as that fuckin' guy," Larry spoke as he scrubbed at his face with a baby wipe. There was humor in him pretending that would be enough to combat the layer of oiliness he never could seem to get off of his face. 

"People change." 

"Obviously, if he's started flipping his crosses. Doesn't mean little twelve-year-old Trav wasn't a dick, though. It's just funny to me that he's turned into who he made fun of." 

"So you haven't talked to him since middle school?" Sal struggled to pull his brush through knots in the ends of his hair, wincing as he tugged on it.

"Nope. His family hopped town pretty suddenly and I wouldn't have wanted to be penpals even if I had known he was leaving." 

"Fair enough." Sal was still curious. He was never one to dig too much into other people's business, but something about Travis made him want to know more. He was mysterious, as silly as it felt to think. Typically people told him he was the mysterious one. 

It was like Travis was the one wearing the mask, now. 

They drove up to the parking lot of the studio that morning and climbed out of their tiny living quarters. It'd been a while since they'd all lived in it together and the stress of the work was making it harder. They were all getting a little sick of each other whining. At least when they were touring they had the scenery to focus on out the windows and every day was different. This was getting to be monotonous. They were running off too many cans of Surge and sheer willpower. They just had to work hard to do their best, power through it, and they'd be able to have their rest. At least for a bit.

They finished off the instrumentals for the third song early that day. Enon played it back for them and it was all worth it. The raw fingertips from doing so many takes on the guitar, the frustration, the exhaustion. "The day is still young, do you want to try and knock out that vocal track?"

Sal and Ash looked at each other and shrugged in unison. They were already here, so why not? 

"Yeah, let's go for it. Do you two want to head back to the RV? You should get all the rest you can." Ash turned to Todd and Larry, who nodded, eager to take any opportunity they could. Even if not for a real rest, at least to get a break for some real food or to take a walk. Something that wasn't music-related. 

"Absolutely. Have fun, we'll see you later." Todd waved and headed out into the hallway with Larry tailing behind. 

Ash passed her water bottle over to Sal. Even if nothing else they were doing was good for any of their healths at least he was staying hydrated. He pushed his nerves down and stepped back into the recording booth, slipping his headphones on and listening to the opening of their song 'The Last Of Me' after they'd both given Enon a thumbs up to say they were ready to start.

He hadn't gotten used to singing without the weight of his guitar hanging from its strap over his shoulder quite yet. Ash seemed put off, too, her hands awkwardly tucked into her pockets. Sal brought his hand up to where the neck of his guitar would be and slid his hand down the imaginary fretboard to play the chords of the song in the air. The other vocalist did the same with her air-bass once she realized what he was doing.

They'd discovered how good their voices sounded together Sophmore year of high school. Ash's was raspy and oh so badass - Sal always told her she sounded like a metal Joan Jett. No one ever expected his voice to be as deep as it was. It always threw people off when the quiet kid in the class spoke up and sounded like he'd smoked a pack a day for the past fifteen years. Either way, when they mixed their vocals, Sal thought they sounded cool as hell. 

\----

They didn't run into Travis or any other members for his band for another few days. The next time they did they were sitting in the lobby of the studio when Strange Neighbors had finished recording. Travis gave them a lazy wave from where he sat. Leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs in a way to make himself take up as little space as possible despite having plenty of room on either side of him, Sal noted. 

"You guys look like shit."

"Thanks, you too." Ash rolled her eyes. 

"I mean you look tired, what kind of fucking partying has been going on in your hotel?" The blonde leaned forward in his seat.

"None. Who's got money to stay in a hotel long term?"

Travis looked up for a moment in thought. By how disgusted he looked, Sal could guess it'd clicked that the four of them had been crammed into their motorhome for the better of three weeks. "There's a motel on Cedar avenue a couple of blocks down, it's cheap as shit but the beds are soft. "

Comfort wasn't what was keeping them from getting good rest, but sleeping on what may as well be sleeping bags certainly wasn't doing them any favors either. Sal turned to the others. "It might be worth the investment. We don't know how much longer we'll be recording and I think we're going to lose our shit if we stay in that RV any longer."

Travis stood up now that it was their turn to go in. He lifted his arms above his head to stretch and his shirt rode up just enough to expose a bit of stomach. "Maybe we'll see you around there then."

\----

They ended up taking Travis' advice after some protest. The band did a full turn around once Sal assured he'd be the one paying for it. They'd cut down on cost in other areas and he didn't feel guilty splurging some of that college fund money to get them better housing for the trip. They ended up with two rooms for the sake of everyone's comfort and sanity, to keep themselves from getting sick of each other even faster. He ended up rooming with Todd while Larry and Ash stayed together. Put the loudest ones together, he and Todd had joked. Finding out there were two beds to a room without a pull-out couch made the cost of an extra room worth it. The argument of who had to sleep on the floor or trying to put two people into a twin-sized bed arguably would have been worse than staying in the RV.

Travis was right, though, the beds were comfortable. He got the best night's sleep he had since they got to New York. It left everyone in a better mood the next day, even though all Sal wanted to do when they got back from another grueling day of recording that left his throat a little raw was crawl under the covers of the soft bed and sleep for a minimum of fourteen hours. Tomorrow was a break day and he had nothing he wanted to do more than sleep.

His plans got cut short when he spotted Travis and In Seeking Providence's bassist leaning against the wall of the motel, smoking a cigarette while they walked through the broken down parking lot. Travis was more dressed up than he had been for the recording sessions, with ripped skinny jeans decorated with studded belts and a black tank top under a mesh shirt. The faintest amount of black eyeshadow smudged in corner of his eyelids. He looked like he wanted to say something, stomping out his cigarette and taking a step forward when they approached. He didn't make a sound until they were halfway up the stairway to the balcony their rooms were on. "Hey, you guys got any plans for tonight? We're giving ourselves a break and heading to a club."

"Why're you telling us?" Larry quirked a brow.

The bassist peaked out from around Travis. He was tall and made the blonde look so short in comparison to him. The fire-truck red mohawk styled straight up in the air didn't help the comedic height difference. "I think he's trying to invite you. We're going to a club over in Chelsea, probably the best one I've ever been to. Mostly a gay club but It's got a great vibe, good music, good people to buy off. The more the merrier."

"If there's a party, we're in." Ash gestured between herself and Larry without even having to ask. It was a no-brainer, no matter the company. "You two?"

"I have a raging headache and I'd rather pop an ibuprofen and lay in bed watching Law & Order than exacerbate it with loud music and louder drunk people."

"Aww, Toddy, what if you're missing out on a chance to find true love?" Larry gave a teasing pout and his best puppy dog eyes as he watched the redhead continue walking to the motel door, unphased. 

"No thanks. The only man I need right now is Detective Mike Logan." He waved them off with a roll of his eyes when Larry cackled before he disappeared into his and Sal's shared room.

"I'll tag along," Sal piped up when Travis' gaze fell on him for a decision. Even if he was tired, he'd get his second wind. It'd been a while since he'd gone out and getting his mind off of music production would be nice. "It'll give Todd some space."

"Sweet. We're heading out at nine. The place is called the Sound Factory. See you there?"

"Yeah. We'll get ready and take a cab over."

Todd's stated plan held true, he was taking his painkillers when Sal came into the room and by the time he was done brushing his hair he'd turned the TV on to the crime show of his choice. "I have a condom in my wallet if you wanna take one with you just in case,"

"Oh my god!"

\---

Sal dressed for comfort, his red jeans, and a black t-shirt. He didn't feel the need to do any more than that. Neither did Larry, apparently, he found out when he went back out to the motel balcony. Ash at least made herself more presentable, did her eye makeup and dressed herself a little more suitably for a club than the two boys had. "I already called us a cab," she said.

The three of them crammed into the back of the car once it arrived and let the driver know where they were headed. Sal got squished in the middle with his shoulders scrunched up to make more room for the other two. Thank fucking god it wasn't a long drive. He was starting to sweat between the warm bodies pressed against him and the anxiety of not knowing what to expect from the night. 

Travis and the red-haired bassist, along with a girl with curly black hair were waiting outside of the building for them. Their whole band didn't seem up to the night either, by the looks of it. "You didn't have to wait for us."

Travis shrugged and pushed himself away from the brick wall he'd propped himself against. "Figured we wouldn't have seen you if we went in ahead of time. It's more fun the more people you have and Phillip and Maple weren't up to it tonight. Don't worry, we would have gone in if you took any fuckin' longer." The words had an edge but he said them with a smile. 

The line into the club moved quickly once they were in it. The bouncer checked their IDs and drew X's on everyone's hand except for Robert's. Larry swore under his breath, cursing the fact that he was only a few months shy of twenty-one.

The venue was huge. The dancefloor was enormous, with a DJ booth blasting house music from a platform at the front. Multicolored lights reflected off of a giant disco ball hanging from the ceiling. It was already starting to fill up despite it being so early in the night, so Sal opted to stick against the wall and watch for a while, shoving his hands in his pockets and tried to adjust to the blasting music. Everyone else went off to dance while the red-haired bassist ran off to the bar to the side of the dance floor. 

He liked to survey the scene and people watch to hype himself up before he joined in at a party. He had to get in the right mindset first and push away the anxiety of being in front of so many people. Seeing what his friends did help as well, watching their examples of what to do in the setting. They knew he needed a minute or two to get into the swing of it. Ash had disappeared to the front of the crowd. Larry was leaning against the opposite wall striking up a conversation with the other band's bassist, sharing a drink. 

He scanned the crowd for Travis and finally spotted the man amongst the crowd. He danced like he was in his own world. Like he was was the only person in the room. He'd never seen him smile like that, a full grin rather than a tight-lipped smile out of politeness. He looked like an angel basking in flashing lights and pure joy with the light bouncing off his blonde hair like a halo. Time slowed as he watched him dance. He was eventually caught staring and Travis wove through the crowd to talk to him.

He leaned down and removed a small flash that was tucked into his combat boot, taking a swig before he spoke. His nose scrunched at the taste. "Why aren't you out with everyone else?"

"I always need a minute before I gather the balls to get out there and dance." He had to practically yell for Travis to hear him over the loud music and the muffling of his voice behind the prosthetic. 

"Need some encouragement?" He held the flask out to him. "Straight vodka."

Sal took the offered flask, tossing back a drink of it and cringing at how it burned in his throat. He never favored hard liquor, but the offer was there and the liquid courage would be vital. He passed it back to the blonde and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Fuck..."

"Not used to it?" He smirked. "I bet you're a lightweight, too."

"Buzz off." Sal laughed. 

Once the flask was tucked under the waistband of his jeans for easier access he grasped Sal's wrist and dragged him onto the dance floor with a mischievous laugh. "C'mon, you can't waste a good song like this." He let go of him once they'd shoved their way into the crowd. He started dancing with that damn smile again. His hands up in the air, hips moving to the beat. His confidence was infectious and Sal followed his lead. He was pulled into Travis' world - now it was just the two of them dancing together. They snuck drinks from Travis' flask as the end of the current song transitioned to the next.

Travis had been right about him being a lightweight. He was already feeling it after a mere few sips. A little sloppier on his feet, a little warmer. The music sounded better and any remaining anxiety melted away with the warmth in his stomach. Maybe it was just because he was drunk, but the rest of the world seemed out of focus right now. Travis was the only thing he could see clearly in his line of sight.

He couldn't be sure if the crowd pushed them closer or if they'd done that themselves. They were dancing chest to chest until Sal found a moment of drunken boldness and flipped himself around to damn near grind against the man behind him. It was meant as a joke, but under his false confidence, Sal was worried he was going to get pushed away in disgust or laughed at. Neither came. Only Travis' touch ghosting over his waist and him moving along to the beat. His touch was electric.

They didn't talk, it was nearly impossible to amongst the crowd. They could only hear each other again when they finished off Travis' flask and wandered to find the only person they knew who could get them more alcohol. "Robert!"

They found Larry and Robert back at the bar in a different place than they had been before and looking far more at ease after a few drinks. The bassist - Robert - turned to look when he heard his name called. "Hey, I was wondering where you ran off to."

"There's a twenty with your name on it back at the motel if you buy us drinks." 

"Say no more."

"Get Sal somethin' light and fruity, he doesn't hold his liquor well." Larry piped up as Robert went to order drinks for them.

Sal huffed, but he wouldn't - couldn't - argue with that. Robert returned a few minutes later with two drinks in hand. "Alright, a Mimosa and a Manhattan for the superstars." 

He hadn't seen a Mimosa served in a solo cup once in his life, but he wasn't about to complain about a perfectly good drink. Robert had made a good decision. "Thank you. You aren't gonna get in trouble for buying drinks for us?"

"Honestly? No one here gives a shit, it's a free-for-all. As long as you don't snitch no one cares. Larry went up with me earlier and they didn't care he's got the X on his hand." 

"Sweet."'

"Thanks- we might- I might want more. I'll let you know." Travis and Robert exchanged a two-fingered salute before Travis started towards an empty stretch of wall where they could enjoy their drinks without getting bumped into. Sal followed, resting shoulder to shoulder with him as he sipped his drink.

"Thanks for dancing with me," He spoke after a moment. When Sal turned his head to face him, his cheeks and the tips of his ears were tinted pink. He was staring out at the dancefloor to avoid eye contact. Whether his flushed skin was the product of the alcohol or something else, Sal couldn't tell. "I'm having fun."

"Me too. Thanks for inviting us. We haven't been out to party in a while, there isn't exactly anywhere to do it other than our backyards in Nockfell."

"Amen to that. Are there even any clubs there?"

"Not one."

"Didn't think so. I was too young to know about that scene when I moved away but based on how big of a stick that town as a whole has up its ass, I didn't think it'd have anything more than a few run-of-the-mill bars." Travis finished his drink and waited for Sal to be done with his so he could stack their plastic cups and toss them into the nearby trash bin.

Something was wanting to be said if the way Travis shifted his feet and how he fidgeted with the ends of his shirt said anything. "Do you wanna- head to the bathrooms?" He finally spoke

His fuzzy thoughts made it hard to understand what he was being asked until Sal looked at him again to see that the blush on his cheeks had spread down to his neck. It clicked, and maybe he couldn't blame the drunken haze for being so oblivious. He wouldn't have expected that in a million years. "Oh- sorry, I don't do hookups."

"Got it. More dancing then?"

Sal could do that. They danced next to each other, against each other, on each other. The two took turns half-grinding on each other and laughing about it until their bandmates came to find them. In Seeking Providence's guitarist, he thinks he remembered them calling her Azaria, was getting tired. Everyone was tipsy at the bare minimum and Larry was starting to feel queazy. Ash pulled a full mom-friend to gather them up to say it was time to go back to the motel. 

"Please don't puke on me in the taxi," Sal pleaded.

"I won't if you won't."

Robert hailed them both cabs and they made it back to the motel vomit-free. Barely. Larry doubled over in the parking lot, one hand propped up against a street light and the other on his knee as he emptied the contents of his stomach. It was Sal's turn to be the hair-holder. 

The other band's cab pulled up right as it was happening, and he could hear Travis' laughter from halfway across the parking lot. Larry flipped them off. 

"Alright, I'm putting you to bed, let's go." Ash sighed, slipping her arm under Larry's to give him extra support. He could walk just fine, but Ash was always the one to over-care for them while inebriated even when she didn't need to. "Goodnight, Sal. Try not to wake Todd up, okay?" Sal gave a thumbs-up as he followed them towards the stairs of the motel.

He and Travis exchanged a nod as they passed each other. "Thanks for the good time," Sal called to him. The words made Ash peek behind her with a slightly startled look. He didn't notice.

"Thanks for the party."

Sal peered at the clock once he made it back into his motel room. Three-thirty in the morning. Todd was fast asleep with a crime tv show still playing in the background. He slipped out of his pants and unclipped his mask before tucking himself into bed, falling asleep in his t-shirt and boxers.

\---

He was awoken at nine on the dot by a knock on the door. Thankfully Todd was already awake and went to answer it for him. No hangover but he was still tipsy and didn't trust himself to hurry to the door to open it without toppling over. Jesus, he hadn't drank that much, had he? 

Todd opened the door after taking a look through the peephole. A messy-haired Ash popped in, still in her makeup from last night and pajamas. "Hey, sleepyheads. I wanted to pop in and make sure you were still breathing. Larry's passed the fuck out still and I don't see that changing for at least a few more hours. Did you end up getting sick last night?" Like Larry had said, he didn't hold his liquor well and there'd been enough incidents in the past to prove that.

"No, I'm fine." He rubbed at his eyes and winced. He'd forgotten to take his glass eye out last night, or at least put a few drops of saline solution in before falling asleep. 

"So... did you have a good time last night?" Ash's lipped turned up into a smug little smile as she leaned further into the motel room. Her tone got Todd to turn to him too, eyebrows raised inquisitively.

Sal felt his face go warm. "We just danced."

"You sure? I heard you thanking him for the good time last night."

"Who, Travis?"

"I- Yeah, Travis, but I didn't mean it like that. We just drank together and danced, that's it, I swear. You both know I don't do that." That rule existed for himself solely because no one wanted to fuck while he was wearing a mask. Taking it off would be even more of a turn-off. If he was going to sleep with someone, he had to be completely comfortable with them seeing his face. Not many people fit that description. "...He did offer, though."

"Seriously? Sheesh, he has changed."

"It makes sense. He very well could have been using his homophobic actions during puberty as a cover-up, or pushing his internal monologue onto others to get it out of his system..." Todd speculated.

"He was drunk," Sal reminded them. He grabbed his bottle of saline solution from the bedside table, putting a couple of drops in his false eye before pulling the covers back over himself and turning over.

"A drunk mind speaks sober thoughts."

"I'm going back to bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, some good fucking interaction
> 
> now that there'll be more interactions between them in the coming chapters I'm super excited to expound more on Travis' character and his behavior because I'm really happy with how I'm writing him,,
> 
> also, a side note, this is now officially the longest fic I've ever written, and I'm glad you're all enjoying it so far! I'm glad I have the drive to finally work on a longer fic and I'm having a lot of fun with it, even if it's testing my attention span.


	7. 'Til Next Time

The two bands became friendlier towards each other after that night. Larry would go out to talk to Robert sometimes, Ash would make small talk with Azaria while they took turns bumming cigarettes off each other as they sat on the busted curb of the motel parking lot. Sal waved at Travis whenever he spotted him, said hi whenever they bumped into each other at the studio or when he caught Travis toying around with Maple's guitar, leaning against the door to his room. He clearly couldn't play but he plucked the strings and made his best attempt to play by ear. 

The extra company made them all a little less sick of everyone and everything happening, though unfortunately they never made it out to party together again, or even just sit around and share a few beers. Their schedules clashed too much and after a couple of weeks Strange Neighbors had wrapped up their album. They all hugged in the recording room. Pats on the back from Todd, warm and sincere embraces from Ashley, crushing bear hugs from Larry. Relief washed over them and excitement took over. They couldn't wait to hear everything put together, to finally have all of their hard work as something tangible, something they could physically touch.

"How'd the session go?" Maple asked. The whole band sat outside their neighboring motel rooms when they got back from their ending session. 

"We finished up the LP," Ash beamed with pride. "Now we go home and rest while we wait for Enon to finish mixing it."

"Congratulations," Travis spoke. "You guys heading out soon then?"

"We're packing up tonight. We're aiming to leave as early tomorrow as possible to give us time to fuck around on the way back." 

"Sweet. Do you know if you're touring with the mini-LP? Debut album, doing promotion and shit."

"We are, it's in our contract." Sal nodded. "We haven't talked about dates or locations yet. Enon suggested we get a touring manager and we need a month or two at least to cool off. When we do it probably won't be all that big."

"Maybe they'll put us together. Our albums won't release too far apart, maybe our tours won't be either." Maybe he was hallucinating, but Sal could have sworn he saw Travis wink at him. Though, the gagging sound Larry made told him what he saw wasn't in his imagination. "Zip it, Johnson."

"Maybe," Sal smiled beneath his prosthetic.

\---

Packing wasn't too hard. They'd been living out of their suitcases and shoving their dirty clothes into their luggage didn't take long. Getting the instruments stacked into the RV was the worst part. It always had been.

They didn't set off as early as they meant to, but that was a constant. They aimed to leave early so that they'd actually get up, not to leave like they said they would. They finished getting everything into the motorhome at ten in the morning. Immediately before they left, Travis and Robert came sauntering out in their pajamas. Both lacking shirts, both wearing baggy and comfortable looking pajama pants. 

"Morning, Sally face."

"Did you just wake up?" Though he tried not to stare too long, his eyes fell on the large tattoo Travis had across his chest. A goat's head with a neck matted in blood, its eyes bloodshot and rolled back into its skull.

"Yeah. Wanted to see you all off, it's been a good few weeks." 

"It has." Sal tucked his guitar up into the back, sliding it in between the other cases of instruments. "How long do you guys have left to record?"

"A couple more days. We just released our first album at the end of last year so we aren't in a rush to make another big album. Just an LP for fun."

"Speaking of," Sal held up his finger to hold his place in the conversation. He walked back alongside the RV and dipped into the car. Hew shuffled through their box of CDs and pulled out his copy of In Seeking Providence's album. He quickly sifted through his bag as well, though it took him a few moments to locate the marker that had fallen to the bottom. He made his way back out to Travis with the object's hand and a grin beneath his mask. "Do you think you could sign this for me? As a going-away present?" He chuckled. 

"Oh my fucking god. Hand it over, loser." Travis said with a grin. He popped the cap of the marker when it was handed to him and scribbled something on the front of the plastic case before handing it back. "Keep that. It'll sell for a lotta money someday."

It was a joke, but maybe it would. Sal had a lot of faith in their band. He held his arm out for a hug and Travis looked put off, giving him a glance up and down as if he was trying to gauge if he was serious or not. After realizing Sal wasn't laughing or putting his arm down, he leaned into it. Though they kept it casual, only hugging each other with one arm, it lingered a little longer than it maybe should have. Travis shook slightly in his hold before pulling away. 

"I should get going." The blue-haired man nodded behind him towards the RV. Not only did they want to give themselves time to stop to eat or make a detour to any odd novelty shops found through highway billboards along the way, they'd called all of their parents last night to tell them they'd be coming back tomorrow and Lisa was adamant they be home as early as possible so they didn't have to worry about driving in the dark. They'd done it more times than they could count, night drives were their brand by now. But her concern was sweet.

"Probably. Have a safe trip."

"You too- uh. when you get done recording. And good luck with that." He gave an awkward wave and turned to shut the back of the RV now that all of their instruments were snugly packed in. "With how things have been happening I doubt it'll be for long, but... Bye, for now." 

The truth was, though. Maybe they wouldn't ever run into Travis again. Being in the same business, in the same section of the country, under the same label weighed the odds in their favor, but nothing was guaranteed. They never knew when everything could suddenly go under and they couldn't tour anymore. Maybe he was just a pessimist for thinking like that. 

Either way, he genuinely hoped he'd see him again. Every time they'd talked had been enjoyable, and making new friends was something he always tried to do. If he could find himself a friend in Travis, he'd consider himself lucky. He watched the other man go and waved one last time when Travis peeked behind him to get another look at Sal.

Sal didn't see what he wrote on the CD case until he was settled in his seat in the RV and they were on the road to Nockfell. It made his heart feel lighter.

''Til next time. -Travis.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter because I couldn't figure out how to smoothly transition it??? the next chapter starts what is basically the next 'act' so it didn't really fit with the next LMAO


	8. Richmond

Sal's hands shook at his sides as he waited for his cue to go on. He had to let himself be anxious. Suppressing it was only going to come back to bite him in the ass later when it overflowed into an entire meltdown. Even if he did feel stupid about being so nervous. They'd performed plenty of times before. They'd been on tour before. This crowd wasn't all that big. They'd played the festival and had the time of their lives.

Touring with an album, though... It felt different. 

They'd gotten a call from the touring manager Enon had sent their way a week after they'd finished up recording. She wanted a general idea of the timing as soon as possible so she could start booking them far enough in advance. "How'd you feel about touring with another band under the label? You both have new, but small, albums coming out. Co-headlining the two of you might be beneficial for everyone involved." 

Larry looked between his bandmates, two of which shrugged with indifference. Sal spoke up with a spark in his heart. "That sounds like a great idea."

Travis had hit the nail right on the head. They were put together for the tour. It made sense - their music complimented each other, they were under the same label, the timing was right. Seven months later they were performing their first show.

In Seeking Providence was doing their set first this time around. They'd decided it'd be best to switch around who'd open. Sal watched Travis lift the mic above his head as the last song trailed off and applause exploded in the audience. His stomach was doing flips. He hoped the crowd wouldn't be disappointed by the next performance. The singer left the stage and smiled at Sal as he passed him. "Break a leg." 

Sal lost himself in the music. It was out of desperation to forget about the audience in front of him, but it made them sound so much better. He put everything he had into playing the chords and singing his fucking heart out. He felt sweat build up beneath his prosthetic from the hot lights of the stage. From the effort. From windmilling his hair around during his guitar solo. 

It only felt like mere seconds between walking on stage to hearing Ash give their goodbye statement. Before he knew it he was sitting in the dressing room missing the adrenaline of being on stage. It was addictive. 

"I wish I could appreciate it more in the moment. Being seen by so many people just stresses me out so much." 

"I get scared too," Ash reassured.

Sal scrubbed around the inside of the mouth of his mask with a makeup wipe. It wasn't the best sanitizer but it was all they had on hand, and it needed to be freshened up. It got nastier faster than you'd think. "I think we all do. I love it, but the..."

"Anxiety." Todd pipped up.

"Exactly." 

"I'm sure that'll lessen with time, as we get into the swing of things again. It'd been nearly a year since we've performed for a live audience, you know."

Jesus, had it really been that long? 

A knock on the door made Sal jump and scramble to cover his mangled face with his prosthetic, hurriedly buckling the top straps. 

"No one's naked, come in," Larry called. He watched Sal secure the mask, watched his shoulders slump as the stress of the possibility of someone seeing his face left him.

The door opened and Travis poked his head in. There were pink lines down his cheeks where the fake blood tears he'd done for the show had stained his face. "We always go out to eat after shows. You guys wanna tag along?" 

Sal's stomach grumbled at the suggestion of food. He couldn't eat before shows anymore without feeling like he was going to throw up, so dinner had to be pushed back until after the performance. He looked to the others and with nods of agreement, he turned back to Travis. "Sounds great." 

They ended up in a deserted Denny's at midnight, sat at a long table and still decked out in their outfits and makeup from the show. They looked like a bunch of freaks - which... they were.

They made Sal feel at home. Like he wasn't alone. He didn't stick out here the same way he had in school. Even with his mask, the judging eyes weren't on just him anymore. Even the people within the group treated it like this was normal. 

He loved how easy it was to simply exist within this group.

"You guys ready for Richmond tomorrow?" Travis asked between bites of mediocre waffles. 

"As much ready as we can be," Sal shrugged. "We've never played shows back to back like this before. We always had a couple of days between our last tour."

"Yeah, you're not getting that on a managed tour. We'll get a few days between some of them, though, and we have a whole week-long break halfway through." 

"A week-long break, lucky us." Larry rolled his eyes. 

"Yeah, lucky you. Not everyone gets a chance like this, so you might wanna go bury your head in the sand before it gets too big. Ostrich lookin' motherfucker."

Sal snorted mid-sip of his soda and laughed despite the carbonation burning his nose. He felt Larry kick at Travis from beneath the table but it didn't stop either of them from cackling.

"I get it, I have a big ass nose! But I'm more of an eagle. They're badass bitches."

"No, look at yourself. You're an ostrich."

Despite his protests, Larry was laughing too. All the bitter feelings leftover from middle school had been resolved after Travis privately apologized to Todd at the motel months ago. Todd had always gotten the worst of it, being openly gay even in middle school like the ballsy motherfucker he was. 

Once he'd told Larry and Ash about it, how Travis had explained how awful he felt about being so cruel, but that he knew whatever he was going through at the time didn't excuse his actions... they eased up on him. People could change. Travis was proving that, even if he was far from perfect and still picked fun sometimes.

Now they were all laughing, not just him. That was the biggest difference.

\---

The road trips improved now that they'd upgraded to a real tour bus. It was only rented to them and looked plain from the outside, It was a step up from the RV regardless. It felt more official. 

They made the drive from Baltimore to Richmond the next afternoon, following the other band's bus the whole way. The two and a half-hour drive was nothing. After checking into their hotel, they drove right to the venue to start setting up.

The crowd was smaller than their last and performing first lessened the anxiety. There was less time to get worked up about it and the show the previous night had prepared them for it. Unfortunately, the set still passed as soon as it started. 

Sal was running off fumes of adrenaline when he and Todd weaseled themselves into the crowd to watch. Ash and Larry had stayed behind in the dressing room after making the decision to do face paint earlier that day. It looked cool as hell, but they'd undoubtedly be spending the entirety of In Seeking Providences' show getting it all off.

In Seeking Providence used the same set as they had the night before. Sal was grateful he could see it properly now and not just from off stage. Travis had the fake blood dripping down his face again and the rest of his makeup made his eyes look shadowed in the harsh lights of the stage. 

Every member of their band hand larger than life charisma on stage. Travis had a confidence about him that he didn't have normally. Not that he didn't come off as confident, but it was... Different. The confidence he seemed to have in the day to day was quiet. This was loud, the way he strutted across the stage and how he stared straight into the crowd. It was magical to watch. 

Sal turned to see if Todd was still with him in the crowd and spotted him across the room chatting with someone familiar. He couldn't quite put a name or place to him. Todd was surprisingly quite the flirt. Even if he was an awkward flirt. That didn't stop him from doing a lot of it when they were traveling. The pickings were slim in Nockfell. The only people they knew who were out were themselves, and they'd pretty quickly crossed each other off the list of possible love interests. 

Sal couldn't blame him for needing to get it out of his system somehow. He wished he had the confidence to.

Once the show was over, the two made their way over to Sal. "Sorry I kinda bolted earlier. This is Neil." Todd said. It clicked for Sal, why he was so familiar. They'd all signed this guy's shirt when they'd performed at the music festival last year. There weren't many people who were quite that into their band, so the memory stuck out to him. 

"Hello!" 

"Hey," Sal waved. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"Oh, yeah! I recognized y'alls band name on a flyer at the cafe I work at and um- I just had to come to another concert. You guys did amazing." 

"Thank you." 

Neil didn't look like he belonged in this group at all, wearing a yellow jacket over a Captain Planet shirt. It was a funny contrast to the room of people dressed in black with their hair styled and dyed in all sorts of ways. 

Robert crouched down in front of them on the stage as he wrapped up cords into coils. "Hey, Maple suggested we go back to the hotel and order pizza tonight instead of going out since we haven't had any downtime today. I brought some stuff so we could have a little party. That sound good?"

"Yeah, that sounds perfect." 

"It does," Todd nodded and turned back to Neil. The two stood close to each other without needing to with the dispersing crowd. "You wanna come hang with us? I'm sure everyone would be cool with it."

"Hell yeah, man! Anyone you guys vibe with is welcome." Robert chimed in.

The man looked flustered, hooking his thumbs in his pockets and laughing nervously. "Yeah, sounds like a lot of fun. I'm in."

\---

They reconvened with the others and set off for the hotel. They'd been booked four rooms for the nine of them and dedicated one as their 'party room'. The ones who lasted the longest would sleep there. So, this was gonna be Larry's room. 

The way they arranged themselves in the room showed how quickly they'd grouped themselves together. Larry typically went with Robert and Phillip. Ash with Maple and Azaria. Todd was a social chameleon and easily slipped into any of the groups or went lone wolf, but tonight he sat closely next to Neil on the windowsill.

Sal always found himself with Travis, and Travis never showed interest in sitting by anyone else when Sal was around. It was sweet. 

Everyone was fine with hanging out in their own friend groups, too. They knew they could hang out with each other at any time. Being able to socialize with other people like you - other than the friends you grew up with - was refreshing. Like romantically, platonic relationships were slim pickings for them in Nockfell as well. Ash seemed especially happy, making theatrics of it with a dramatic, "Finally, my friend group isn't just a sausage fest!" To Maple and Azaria. 

"You said you brought stuff, right? What'd you get?"

Robert kicked his suitcase out from under one of the beds, unzipping it to show the stash packed in amongst his sleep clothes. "Got stuff to make rum and cokes, and pot. I brought molly, acid, and xanax I'm willing to share too, but if you want any you gotta tip me." He chuckled. 

The room was a giggly mess in no time at all. Half-empty pizza boxes stacked up on the bed, empty solo cups on the floor. Sal and Travis sat shoulder-to-shoulder against the TV stand, passing a joint back and forth. They more so listened in on other conversations than partaking. Sal was glad he seemed to enjoy just... People watching, too. 

That went down the drain as soon as Ash held up the half-empty coca-cola bottle. Everyone knew what was coming. "Spin the bottle?"

"I'm not kissing anyone," Sal protested. 

"Then we'll do it truth or dare style. If you don't wanna kiss anyone, you can take a truth question from them." She beamed, her black lipstick framing her excited, drunken smile.

"...Alright." 

Finding room to squeeze ten people into a circle in a hotel room was no easy task. They ended up moving the desk and shifting the beds back. Even then it was cramped. 

"I'll go first since I'm the one who suggested it." Ash leaned in to spin the litre of coke, it's red cap pointing to Maple. Sal couldn't help but snicker at how happy she looked to get her first kiss with a girl. 

His first kiss was with her when they were fifteen and they'd dated for two months. There was a reason they all crossed each other off of their Potential Love Interests lists fast - no bad blood, it was just too weird. Ash and Larry dated for a week in Junior year. He and Todd made out at a party in Sophmore year, but that ended as quickly as it started when Sal cut his lip on Todd's braces. He cringed at the memory.

"Alright, wanna go clockwise from here?"

Sal watched with increasing anxiety as his the circle took turns spinning the bottle. His turn would be the last, and taking a truth could go depending on who it landed on. Neil took the truth after it landed on Azaria.

"Do you think Todd is cute?" She asked, winking at Todd when Neil looked down with a sheepish smile. 

"I do, yeah." 

Todd spun the bottle next, and by some gay-ass miracle landed on Neil. Though, it wouldn't be surprising if Todd worked out the math in his head of how hard to spin it to tip the chances in his favor. He was good at using his brains for all the wrong things. They shared a sickly-sweet kiss, laughing through the kiss as soon as their lips met. There went another empty hotel room, Sal was sure. 

Larry got Phillip. They both had to get on their knees to lean across the circle to kiss. "Yeah, still straight." Phillip laughed. 

"Damn, I need to step up my kissing game."

Travis went after Robert and Phillip had taken their shot at spinning the bottle. He landed on Larry. "Not kissing you, methmouth."

Larry snorted. "Alright, truth. You still a virgin, eagle scout?"

"Hey- I was never a boy Scout, fuck you. And no, I'm not." 

"Shit. High five." Larry held up his hand and received a begrudging high five from the blonde.

Sal took a deep breath and spun the bottle. The cap pointed towards Maple. "Truth, please."

"Perfect, because I've been wanting to ask-" Oh god. "Why do you wear your mask all the time? It's good branding, but it's gotta get in the way when you eat or while you're trying to hold a conversation." 

That was exactly the question he was hoping not to get. He didn't mind answering if it was asked one on one, but now answering truthfully was going to make it awkward. Lying would make things more uncomfortable when he did tell them the truth, though. "It's, um, actually- it's a prosthetic. Not just... For show."

"Oh- shit- I'm so sorry." 

"No- you're fine, that's what most people assume. I'm not offended or anything, I'm used to it. I've had it since I was a little kid." 

Maple nodded, and the group went quiet. It was only for a few seconds, but those few silent seconds made Sal want to bash his head into a door.

"More drinks then another round?" Larry suggested.

The game progressed the same, but truths were turned into shots instead. Todd and Neil tapped out after the second game and left the room, the group cheering them on under the assumption of what they were dipping out to do. 

They got bored after the second game and the girls decided to share a room to have some time away from the guys. 

"I'm about ready to pass the fuck out," Travis groaned. 

"Me too. It's been a long day."

"...You wanna share a room? I don't think we'll be able to break up the party." He gestured to the remaining three.

"Nope," Phillip piped up from where he stood at the desk, rolling another blunt for them.

"That's fine with me." Sal's heart skipped a beat when he registered that'd mean taking his prosthetic off in front of him, or powering through it and sleeping with it on. At least now that everyone knew, sleeping in it wouldn't be as outlandish. He'd done it before. It just wouldn't be comfortable. 

"Key cards are on the table."

"Thanks, Rob." 

Sal and Travis headed out to the hallway and to the remaining room. They'd been left with the one next to the party room. The other two doors next to theirs had 'do not disturb' signs hanging from the doorknobs. He didn't want to know.

"Any preference on which bed you get?" Travis chuckled. The room was identical to the one they'd just come from. He didn't realize what a mess they'd made of that one until he saw what it looked like clean.

"The one next to the window, if that's alright? I like the light in the morning."

"Go for it." Travis kicked off his boots and stripped down to his boxers. Either he was fucked up enough that his modesty was out the window, or he didn't give a shit in the first place. Either way, Sal respected it. 

He didn't get a good look before Travis flopped down onto the bed, but Sal could have sworn he saw markings on his back. 

Sal waited until he was tucked under the comforter of the soft bed to wiggle out of his pants. He was shy, but there was no way in hell he was sleeping in skinny jeans. 

"...If you wanna take it off to sleep, you can take it off after the lights are out. I'm a late sleeper, too, so you'll probably wake up before I do- if- if that'd make you more comfortable." 

Sal's breath hitched and he brought his hand up to graze his fingers over his prosthetic in consideration. "...it's alright."

"I don't give a shit about whatever you have going on under there, by the way. It's not about me not wanting to see. You can keep it on or take it off, I don't care as long as you're comfortable."

He stared up at the bumpy ceiling in silence for a few moments. Part of him wanted to throw out any fucks he had and take the prosthetic off. Rip it off like a bandaid and let Travis see. But being tipsy wasn't enough to give him the guts to do it, to take away the underlying fear of scaring him off just as he was starting to feel some sort of connection. 

"I'm... Not ready yet." Sal turned to look at the man lying in the bed only a couple feet away from his own. His eyes were shut and his hands were behind his head. No signs of disappointment or disgust or... Whatever Sal was expecting to see. "Goodnight, Trav."

"Goodnight."

Sal leaned over and flicked the light switch on the lamp between the two beds. Finding a comfortable position sleep in got more complicated with the hard prosthetic in his way, but before long he was drifting off. 

\---

When he woke up it was to the sound of muffled sobs and heavy breathing. He sat up and looked over to where Travis now sat up, eyes squeezed tightly shut with both hands clasped over his mouth to keep himself quiet. Sunrise peeked through the curtains and cast a pale light over the man's shaking form. Sal swung his legs over the side of his bed. 

"Travis...?"

The blonde jolted with the sound and turned his face away from him. 

Sal stood, taking slow and hesitant steps to stand at the side of his bed. He knew how to comfort Larry after a nightmare, but this wasn't Larry. He couldn't be sure that's what had put Travis in this state in the first place. "You don't have to be scared or ashamed. I want to help- can I sit on the bed with you?"

Travis slowly moved his hands away from his face and set them in his lap. He gave the faintest of nods and his eyes followed Sal's form as he sat cross-legged in front of him. His lips were pressed together in a firm line, though they still quivered as he tried to push down his tears. His red, blood-shot eyes betrayed him even if he kept the whimpers suppressed. "Sal-"

"It's okay..." He held his hand out for him as an offer, not expecting Travis to accept. Travis' hand gripped onto his like his life depended on it, and Sal clasped his other hand over his. "Did you have a nightmare?" 

He could only nod, squeezing his eyes shut again as a tear dripped onto the sheets. His eyelashes stuck together with the tears before it. Whatever it was, it had fucked with him hardcore. His breath started to slow as Sal's thumb glided over his knuckles. 

"It's over now. Even if it felt real or if you saw things that happened in the past, you're not in it anymore. You aren't in the nightmare." He spoke softly. He was taken aback when Travis leaned forward to rest his forehead on his shoulder. He wasn't anticipating him to seek out any more physical comfort than holding hands. He was happy to provide it. "Go ahead and cry, if you need to."

The words broke the dam and Travis let out a small whine as his shoulders shook. Sal could feel his shirt get damp with tears. He wasn't... Expecting this out of him. He knew there was a wall, but he wasn't expecting something so raw and vulnerable behind it. He felt a strong urge to protect him now, to keep the man leaning against him safe and secure. His whimpers made him sound like a kicked puppy.

Maybe he wasn't too far off in thinking that. He brought his hand up to rub Travis' back, to trace mindless designs as an attempt to comfort him. He realized what he'd gotten a glimpse of on Travis' back earlier. Faded, oddly shaped scars made little raised curved lines across his back. His heart sunk in his chest. 

He couldn't tell what had made scars like that and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He could identify the circular scars littered on the backs of his shoulders. Those were from cigarette burns. Sal leaned his head against Travis', continuing to leisurely trace down his spine as his shaky breaths started to even out. 

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for being affected by something. Does stress make them worse?" He felt the other man nod against his shoulder. "Mine are the same way. I get it." 

Sal glanced at the clock on the bedside table. They'd only gotten about an hour and a half of sleep. It was still early despite the sun starting to make its appearance. "Do you want to try to go back to sleep? I can- ... We can both sleep here if you'd want that. I was cold in my bed, anyway."

"I do run pretty warm."

Sal didn't get much more sleep that night. Travis had crashed right away from the exhaustion of the nightmare and the crying. He looked so calm now, tucked in against Sal's chest and his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Their bare legs tangled together and arms draped over each other. 

Sal couldn't deny that beneath his worry over Travis, this warmth felt comfortable and right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, this was a beefy one! thank you for everyone's wonderful and sweet feedback, it really helped me pull through writing this chapter when it started giving me some trouble AKNDSJND


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